IMG_1524Today was another sunny, blue-sky day here in Vitoria. A breeze blowing through my apartment forced me to stop the doors with various colored flipflops. By late afternoon, I’d been enjoying the weather so much, I was compelled to look up the temperature. What numeric value can I assign to this lovely afternoon.

84℉ (28.9℃) And feels like 91℉ (32.8℃)

Oh, yes. So much nicer. I knew it had to be cooler today because the sweat was only beading and not trickling down my back.

It’s hot this year. So hot. We’re almost a month into fall, and I’m still leaving thigh-shaped pools of sweat on every chair I sit in. I haven’t had to pee since January. All liquid just gushes out my pores. Within a half an hour of waking up and leaving the air-conditioned bedroom for the naturally breeze-cooled den, I have sweat stains along my breast bone, and the only exertion I’ve had is lifting a piece of peanut butter toast.

Of course I married a man who doesn’t have pores and could wear the same shirt to the gym everyday for a week without any lingering odor. He doesn’t. But he could. Meanwhile, I look like I jumped in a pool. Whenever I complain, my husband shakes his head and insists “Your body is more efficient at cooling itself than mine.” (Life Lesson: If you find a man who can turn being a sweaty mess into a compliment, marry him.) I reapply deodorant two time a day minimum, and I can still smell myself at the end of the day.

But seriously without any hyperbole, I can’t remember a day I wasn’t actively sweating in Vitoria. There might have been one cool day last September, but definitely by October, I was dripping sweat trying to cut cookie dough in a ninety degrees kitchen. A secondary perk to annual Christmas visit to Atlanta is we get to miss a month of summer heat in Vitoria.  Although, it’s feeling less like summer heat and more like pretty-much-all-year-long heat. For anyone still on the fence about global warming, I have a guest room with only an old window unit AC that you’re welcome to sleep in. If you can make it through breakfast the next morning without complaining about the heat, I’ll paint Drill Baby Drill on my kid’s bedroom wall.

The heat’s not just in Vitoria. On February 27, Rio had a record breaking high of 106.5℉ (41.4℃) with a heat index of 119.5℉ (48.6℃). What?!!! I’m so glad we left Rio.

Just imagine if that’s the temperature you have to go to work in. You’re not on vacation. You can’t just camp out at a pool with a swim up bar. You have to get dressed, maybe in a suit, maybe with a lab coat, maybe a uniform that requires pants. You have to go work now. Remember the worst traffic or school drop-off run you’ve ever experienced, now imagine it happening at 120℉. And without air conditioning. Many buses in Rio don’t have air conditioning.

Actually, central AC is rare and reserved mostly for tourists. We don’t have it at home. The top tier private school I worked for didn’t have it. My bank doesn’t have it. What we use here are individual units, and the top of line can effectively turn a classroom into a freezer. Just don’t be the first one to show up and have to turn them on. And of course they break. And if you wake up in the middle of night in a puddle of sweat and the clock blinking, don’t worry. All the thousands of bedroom unit ACs just overwhelmed the grid and caused a blackout.

So if you are planning a trip to Brazil for this time of year, bring a flashlight, lots of sunscreen, and a half dozen sticks of deodorant. That should last you about a week.

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